


The Calm Before The Storm

by kokalia



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Death, Gen, Kidnapping, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 05:03:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17739524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kokalia/pseuds/kokalia
Summary: Reader gets kidnapped by the Lemoyne Raiders on a supply run.





	The Calm Before The Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Not really any pairing other than the reader is best friends with Javier. The reader/oc is latinx/hispanic. Point of views will change a couple times.

 

 _Hot,_ was the only thing I could think about as sweat dripped down my forehead. The weather today in Rhodes was at an all-time high. The sun rays were surely going to mark uneven tan lines. The only shade offered was in the general store, but I could only stay there for so long before heading back to camp. Hopping back onto the wagon, I sighed. I squint my eyes at Sean as I grumbled, “Why did Pearson send us for supplies in this damn heat? I feel like I’m goin’ to melt!”

Sean laughed as we headed back to camp, “Yer’ tellin’ me! I just hope we don’t run into them Lemoyne Raiders.”

 _Spoke too soon_ , I thought as we saw a group of men approaching the wagon. “Stay calm,” I whispered as we both discreetly put our hands on our gun holsters.

“Nine,” Sean whispered. _We’re outnumbered_.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” asked a boorish looking man.

“Looks like a greaser and a yankee to me,” another boasted, as they circled the wagon.

“We’re not looking for any trouble. Our mother, she’s sick,” I quickly lied. _Stupid. What kind of lie was that?_

“That’s a whole lot of supplies for one little ‘ole woman,” another proclaimed as he drawled his gun.

 _Mierda_. I took the first shot as Sean quickly cracked the whips as they chased us. Whipping around I aimed my revolver at one of the gang members as we came to a stop. _Eight_. Quickly getting off, we hid behind the wagon for cover and started shooting. Sean on one side and I on the other. Bullets were blazing left and right as the others started falling one by one. _Five_. Blood splashed on my face as one of the horses had been killed.

Just as I was aiming and about to shoot, I had been attacked from behind. Being taken by surprise put a strain in the fight. Punch after punch, I slowly started getting weaker. I looked for Sean and saw that he had just killed the man who had attacked him. The five others left had stopped shooting and started closing in. _We’re going to die._

“Run!” I screamed. Sean look conflicted and like he wanted to protest, but he obeyed. The last thing I saw was Sean cutting the ropes of the extra horse before I saw black. 

           *at camp, third person*

The sound of one pair of hooves came rushing in as Lenny – who was keeping watch at the time – yelled, “Who’s that?!”

“It’s me!” Sean announced. The speed at which he was coming in and the fact that he was alone panicked everyone. “They took them! They took Y/N!” he shouted.

“Who, boy?” Hosea questioned.

“Le-Lemoyne Raiders!” Sean sputtered.

Just as those two words left his mouth everyone started yelling and grabbing their guns. The fact that those _racist_ _bastards_ took their Y/N angered everyone, especially Javier. The only thing he could see was red. His best friend was just kidnapped.

“We need a plan,” began Dutch, “Charles, Arthur, Javier, mount up,” he ordered. The other members began protesting as the three started getting ready.

“No! If we all go, we run the risk of Y/N getting killed on sight,” Dutch interrupted. “Sean, I need you to show us where you last saw them and then head back to camp.” Just as Sean was about to protest Dutch explained that they need good heads right now. In which he understood, and then quickly rode back to where the supply wagon was left.

The ride there consisted of everyone questioning Sean about what led to this moment. To which he explained, but one question that everyone had, but no one asked was, _how could you leave them?_ To say Sean felt horrible was an understatement. _I should’ve stayed. I should’ve been at their side. What if they’re dead? Because of me. Because of me!_ Were the thoughts spiraling in his head. He was riddled with anxiety as they approached the last spot he saw Y/N.

The wagon could be seen from far, so they began riding faster. As they approached, they noticed that the wagon was destroyed, in flames. The supplies were long gone. Blood and dead bodies everywhere. “Charles, I need you to look for a trail,” ordered Dutch. _How could Dutch be so calm?_ Sean thought. _How could they all be so calm?_

Charles quickly found a trail. At that moment, Sean was ordered to head back to camp. The rest of them had followed behind Charles as Dutch began thinking of a plan. As they rode further and further away from Clemens Point, panic struck in. _What if they’re dead?_ Swarmed through everyone’s mind, but no one dared say it. They nearly lost the trail as they entered Bayou Nwa, but Y/N’s screams of pain led them straight to the Lemoyne Raider’s hideout. They got off their horses and left them in a hidden spot.

“What’s the plan, Dutch?” questioned Javier. He was mentally distraught, but he had to keep a clear mind as his friend was in grave danger.

“We have to take out the guards first. Silently, Y/N’s life is at stake,” another scream interrupting him, everyone winced, their knuckles turning white as they clenched their fists, “Charles and Javier, take the left. Arthur and I will go in from the right.”

           *back to first person*

Darkness and the sound of laughter. _Am I dead?_ I crane my neck around and soon realize that I was blindfolded and tied to a chair. I groaned as my head began to throb.

“Ah, look who’s awake,” a voice affirmed as the blindfold was ripped off me. Four walls, a roof, if you could call it that. Beer bottles everywhere. So wet, it feels like I’m breathing water. The sound of buzzing insects swarmed my ears. _The Bayou_ , I thought as I saw the same man who called me a greaser earlier watching me with attentiveness.

“What do you want?” I hissed. This fight was getting old.

“Someone’s got a quick tongue,” he concluded. My question earned me a punch to face. The taste of copper filled my mouth. Looking away, I spit the blood out. “Got nothing else to say?” he taunted as he punched me once again. Laughing was heard from just outside that door. _Mierda. ¿Cu_ _á_ _ntos_ _hay?_ I look around for any kind of weapon when a metal rod in a fire pit caught my attention. _Oh, no._ He must’ve noticed my staring because he smirked. “Aren’t you a smart one,” he cooed in my face. I scrunched my face in disgust when his alcohol-induced breath filled my nostrils.

He proceeded towards the fire pit to grab the rod. He slowly walked back to where I was seated, taunting me as he waved the rod around. “Now what shall I do with this?” he asked. Now moving the rod around my body without touching me. The extreme temperature of the rod making me sweat. _No puedo mostrar miedo_. I flinched away as he brought it closer to my face, he laughed as he placed the rod on my face. I screamed in agony as my skin sizzled from the touch. The smell of burnt flesh filling my nostrils. The seconds felt like minutes, hours, days, this torment was going on forever.

He removed the rod and proceeded to compliment my “toughness.” I paid him no mind as the pain was suffocating me. He began to punch me once again. Blow after blow, I began to feel myself losing consciousness. _Stay awake_. I began looking for any sign of weapons and saw a machete behind his back.

As if he was getting bored with my unresponsiveness and grabbed the hot metal rod again. I kept eye contact with him as he was trying to decide where to hurt me next. He pointed the rod to my lower abdomen and pushed forward. Another scream exited my lungs as the rod was tearing through my flesh and into my stomach. He removed it and put the rod back. Just as I thought he was done he began to untie me. I couldn’t fight, I was limp. The agony had faded into a dull throb. He placed me on the ground and began unbuckling his pants and removing his weapons. A sense of panic and adrenaline kicked in as he started getting on top of me. I looked around, _shit, shit, shit_ , I tried reaching for a nearby bottle, but it was so far away. _A little more._

He noticed my reaching at the last second just as I smashed the bottle onto his head. The glass shattering over my face, cutting me. I swiftly grabbed his machete, mounted him and began smashing the blade into his face. I couldn’t stop. Some kind of frenzy took over me as tears began streaming down my face. I didn’t notice the door opening and four bodies rushing in as I was grabbed.

“Get the fuck off of me!” I shrieked. The unknown body was smothering me from behind as I lashed around, screaming.

“It’s me! Y/N! Soy yo,” someone pleaded as they fought with my thrashing around, “Es Javier.”

“He- he tried to,” I whimpered as I held onto Javier for dear life as he calmed my movements.

“Estas bien,” murmured Javier, “se acabo.” I was crying into Javier’s arms as he lifted me and left the room. The others had already called the horses over. Javier and Charles helped me onto Boaz. I looked around and saw the worry on their faces. I saw the bodies, I couldn’t count, the exhaustion was taking over. As we were leaving, I could hear voices, but I couldn’t understand what they were saying until I heard my name and felt a shake.

“Y/N,” Javier repeated, “Did you hear me? You have to stay awake.”

I couldn’t find myself being able to speak, so I hummed in response. Charles and Arthur rode behind us as Dutch rode in front. They all kept looking around to check if there were more of them or to see how I was doing. My grip on Javier’s waist was getting looser and looser as my vision began to darken. Next thing I knew I was falling onto the ground just before I lost consciousness.

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:  
> mierda – shit  
> no puedo mostrar miedo – can’t show fear  
> cuantos hay – how many are there  
> soy yo – it’s me  
> estas bien – you’re okay  
> se acabo – it’s over


End file.
